


there's a hole, a gaping void in his head, and somewhere, he burns with curiosity

by elijay



Series: because there really isn't enough of Neal Caffrey being one of the Robins in our lives [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, White Collar
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Jason Todd is Neal Caffrey, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Neal Caffrey Has Issues, Neal Caffrey Needs a Hug, Neal Caffrey is Jason Todd, Neal's fudged his age more than a little bit, basically i wanted to clarify Neal/Jason got amnesia after the whole, briefly homeless Neal in the past, but it's not entirely his fault because he doesn't remember how old he is, but not in the same way Tim was an amnesiac Neal in my other one, certainly not me, in this Neal's got like x years of memory and doesn't know who he used to be, it's very very brief, let's do it, marked as finished but could very well be continued, more details in the beginning notes if you are concerned whether you're good to read, my brain pretty much went ooh Neal and Jason, no one's ever done this before to my knowledge, or was anyway, pit madness kill insert everyone he wanted to kill here, so different would never work, so he probably made up with the fam, sooo in this Neal is an amnesiac Jason, who knows - Freeform, will be you ask?, younger!Neal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26291599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elijay/pseuds/elijay
Summary: Neal Caffrey has a hole in his memories. Though, it’s more like a gaping void, absent of anything and everything, if he’s being completely honest.Sometimes, it unsettles him, and he tries to forget what he doesn’t know about himself - that he doesn’t know himself.And other times, he wonders.Did he like art, like Neal Caffrey does?---Deep down, in a thought buried and pushed so far down, he wonders, sometimes, if anyone knew him, if anyone cared for him.---Neal Caffrey is actually Jason Todd.
Relationships: Diana Berrigan & Neal Caffrey, Elizabeth Burke/Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey & Clinton Jones, Peter Burke & Neal Caffrey
Series: because there really isn't enough of Neal Caffrey being one of the Robins in our lives [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785382
Comments: 60
Kudos: 279





	there's a hole, a gaping void in his head, and somewhere, he burns with curiosity

**Author's Note:**

> here, have that Neal is Jason Todd thing i think i talked about somewhere.
> 
> it's been sitting in my docs for months now, basically complete, i just wasn't sure whether to post it as a 'finished' one-shot or as an unfinished piece. i decided on 'finished,' as in 1/1, but there is definitely the possibility of more sometime down the road. maybe.
> 
> also forgive the crappy summary. and title. i probably won't change it, though.
> 
> \---
> 
> potential TW: brief mention of 'not really wanting to' kiss/'do a physical favour' while being on the streets. Neal/Jason is technically underage at the time, as a 16-17 year old, not that he actually knows how old he is. not so much rape/non-con as he didn't see another option available at the time, being papers-less, money-less, and homeless. (not that that makes it particularly better, i know.)

Neal Caffrey has a hole in his memories. Though, it’s more like a gaping void, absent of anything and everything, if he’s being completely honest (which he rarely is; _always is, Peter, he swears_ ). There’s nothing there. No impressions, no deja-vu, no names or dates or faces that feature in his dreams.

There’s just… nothing.

Sometimes, it unsettles him, and he tries to forget what he doesn’t know about himself - that he doesn’t know himself.

And other times, he wonders.

He wonders what his name was, what the first letter was, if it was an N like Neal (he doesn’t think it was), what his last name (his _family_ name), even just what his initials were. He wonders how old he is, how off Neal Caffrey’s age is (because he knows it’s _off_ ). He wonders where he lived, where he grew up. He wonders where he went to school, if he went to school, wonders what kind of knowledge he had. He wonders if he knew any languages that Neal Caffrey doesn’t. He wonders what hobbies he indulged in; did he like art, like Neal Caffrey does?

Deep down, in a thought buried and pushed so far down, he wonders, sometimes, if anyone knew him, if anyone cared for him.

( _He hopes, wishes, prays, pleads, insists, desires-_ )

\---

Peter and Jones and Diana and El and even Mozzie avoid asking a lot of questions about his past. He doesn’t really know why, considering their clear curiosity, but he’s grateful. At this point, with eight years of life and memories under his belt, he’s good at lying about it, about the fact he doesn’t _have_ a past, but he wants to avoid lying to Peter and Jones and Diana and El and Mozzie as much as possible.

They’re nice, friendly. To a point, almost family. After all, Peter is the person Neal has known the longest, Mozzie coming in second.

So when, on another boring, hours-long stake-out in the van, Jones decides that playing truth or dare is a good idea, he thinks, _well, this is going to go just great._

Considering they’re on a stake-out and can’t necessarily leave the van, truth or dare became more truth than dare, which devolves into some kind of twenty questions game, otherwise known as prying into others’ lives.

Things like ‘have you ever kissed a guy, or girl, in Diana’s case’ ( _yes_ for Neal and Diana, and Jones, which elicited some ‘huh’s, but a _no_ for Peter) and, amusingly, ‘have you ever gotten so drunk when you woke up you weren’t actually sure whether it was am or pm despite being able to see the sky?’

One would think, as FBI agents, they’d have better things to do that play silly truth games. Neal rolls his pale eyes.

Then Diana smirks when Neal says, “Truth,” and asks, “So, Caffrey, when did you have your first kiss?”

Peter huffs and says, “He’s Neal Caffrey,” like it means something. “He was probably charming up his 3rd grade class.”

Jones laughs and adds, “Probably had his first kiss when he was in 4th grade, then.”

They turn to him for the answer.

He doesn’t have it. He doesn’t know when his first kiss was. Probably. There is a possibility that his first kiss was, in fact, as the amnesiac he is, as Neal Caffrey, but he figures that’s unlikely. By his estimates, he was in his early twenties, or perhaps late teens, when he first woke up. He isn’t quite sure.

He’s left the van in silence for too long, and Peter turns to clap him on the shoulder worriedly, leaving the surveillance screen to Diana for a moment. “Neal? You good?”

“Huh?” Neal looks up. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” Since he doesn’t want to really lie to Peter and Jones and Diana, when he remembers they’re still waiting for an answer he says, guessing, “Actually, I was probably… about twenty, when I had my first kiss.”

That was probably about the age when Neal Caffrey had his first kiss, at least. It wasn’t that long after he woke up.

It wasn’t ( _it is, it’s a-_ ) a lie ( _-lie, he’s lying, something whispers_ ), technically.

Diana blinks at the unexpected answer to her question. “Really? That seems… old. For you.”

Neal shrugs, and because he always deflects and redirects, he asks, “What about you guys?”

“I was fifteen, I think, or maybe sixteen. She was hot, I remember.” Jones.

“Fourteen,” Diana. “I bet she was hotter.”

“High school sweetheart. I was fifteen.” Peter.

Neal smiles, and it’s a bit brittle but not thin. “Sounds nice.”

Then Jones goes prying, and it all goes downhill from there. “So who was your first kiss with, then? Anyone interesting?”

“Not really, no.” 

He doesn’t like thinking back to those days, when he first woke up. For a while, he had no identity, no papers, no money, nothing to his name. He resorted to physical favours on the streets so he could eat at least once every day or two and sleep in shitty, rundown motels occasionally, saving for papers.

He really doesn’t like thinking about it.

“I’m surprised you didn’t manage to seduce someone in high school,” Peter says, causally curious, and Neal’s brittle, not-thin smile tightens. “Did you just… not want to?”

“I didn’t particularly want to when I was twenty either,” he bites out before he can consider the words. As soon as he speaks, he realises what he said, and a scowl crosses his face. 

Damn him for thinking about it.

Peter and Jones and Diana all slow as they take in his retort, and as Peter focuses on Neal, Jones and Diana exchange a glance. “What… does that mean, Neal?”

Neal huffs, and grimaces. “Not what you think.” At Peter’s look, he rolls his eyes. “Seriously, Peter, Jones, Diana. I wasn’t… assaulted, or anything.”

From their looks, they don’t believe him, and something akin to concern is creeping across their faces. “It’s okay if you were, Caffrey.” Jones’ tone is soft, and he hates it. “I mean, obviously it’s not _okay_ but you can tell us, if you were.”

He sighs, agitation puffing out on his breath. “Yeah, I know. And I wasn’t.” He can tell they aren’t going to believe him unless he tells the truth, and so he does, because he doesn’t want to lie to Peter and Jones and Diana. He doesn’t. “I swear, I wasn’t assaulted, but I… was in a bit of a tough spot, eight years ago. No place to crash, no money, no ID. I wasn’t a criminal, hadn’t gotten into forging yet.” He shrugs. “I did what I had to.”

Peter frowns. “Neal…”

“What,” he snaps, and- and he’s never been as _sick_ of a name as he is now.

_Neal_. 

Neal is him, but he’s not Neal, and he knows it, he does, but he doesn’t know who he is if he isn’t Neal and it’s been eight years and Peter and Jones and Diana are prying into something he doesn’t want to think about.

_Neal_. He’s never hated a name so much.

Neal huffs a breath, trying to calm himself down.

“What,” Neal says, a little bit softer.

Neal’s eyes are a pleading, pale, blue-green colour. Neal doesn’t want to talk about it.

Peter opens his mouth to say something, but then Diana, who’d been looking after the surveillance screens, yells, “Target’s on the move,” and everyone moves, conversation not forgotten but overridden.

\---

“Honey, please. Come to bed? You don’t even have a case,” Elizabeth says, sitting down next to Peter on their couch.

“Hm,” Peter hums, lost in thought. He doesn’t appear to have even heard her properly, beyond registering her voice. “Hey, El.”

“Peter,” she sighs.

He looks up at her. “Sorry, El. It’s just…” He shrugs. “Neal.”

“What’s he done this time,” she teases. “Nothing bad, right?”

Peter smiles at her. “Hopefully, if we’re lucky. He just said something the other day when we were in the van.” He hesitates. “He said that he was in a bit of a tough spot eight years ago,” he recites, “and that he had his first kiss when he was about twenty.”

“Alright,” El says. “And these are related… how?”

Peter sighs heavily. “He was homeless eight years ago, or at least something similar, apparently. ‘No place to crash,’ he said. He also wasn’t a criminal yet. He alluded to sexual encounters he wasn’t pleased with but insisted he hadn’t been forced.”

Elizabeth’s eyes are sad, but she keeps quiet to allow Peter to finish.

“So - his first kiss. It was apparently a part of this. But, it doesn’t match up.”

“What doesn’t?” she prompts.

“His age. He had his first kiss when he was in a tough spot, eight years ago. When he was twenty.”

El blinks. “You’re right, that definitely doesn’t match up. He says he’s thirty-three, now, but according to that, he’d be twenty-nine, wouldn’t he be?”

Peter nods. “Twenty-eight when he broke out, twenty-four when I caught him, and twenty-one when we started tracking him. That’s young.” He shakes his head. “Damn it, Neal.”

“What about his records? Aren’t those real?” Elizabeth inquires as she settles further down beside her husband, leaning into his side.

Peter freezes. “Damn it, Neal,” he repeats under his breath. “They must be fakes. I mean, it was always a possibility, but this? What was he thinking?”

Elizabeth frowns, her face painted with concern. “Is Neal even his real name, then?”

“I don’t know,” Peter answers, his dark eyes holding both worry and anger, hurt just out of reach. “We can’t know. Probably not. He must prefer it, though, to put it on his papers.”

“Are you going to tell your bosses about this?” 

He looks up to find Elizabeth smiling knowingly at him, and sighs. “No, I can’t do that. He could be put back away for this. I’ll have to go to Diana and Jones. They were there too, they might also piece it together. We can… we can do something. Maybe talk to him.”

“Good.” El stands up and stretches, before reaching a hand down to her partner. “Now that that’s settled… come to bed, honey, it’s late.”

\---

His memories start suddenly - one hot, summer day, he woke up on the side of the road wearing nothing but trousers, a shirt, and a tattered leather jacket, clutching a sharp knife covered in warm blood in his hand.

After that, it’s all a bit of a blur, but he manages to find a town and a place to clean up, eat, and rest. A year later, across the pond in America, he catches the FBI’s attention. Three more and he’s caught, four later and he’s out.

Eight years of living, of wondering who he is, and of creating a new (wrong, something says; pathetic, something says; not _me_ , something says) him.

And still, years left before he’s free again.

(Neal’s starting to feel so stretched out, and weary, and _wrong_.

And as the days pass, tethered to his two miles, more and more he desperately wishes he could _remember_ , remember anything, and maybe have some answers about the first fifteen, twenty, twenty-five years of his life.

Maybe then he’d have some answers for Peter and Jones and Diana, for Mozzie and El. Answers to their unasked, inaudible questions that he so clearly heard.)

**Author's Note:**

> pay some attention to the use of name or pronoun, as in whether i’m (in Neal’s third-person-POV POV) am using ‘he’ or ‘Neal’ (and later, ‘Jason,’ but that’s later, if i get around to a later). which one I use is usually intentional - in this, i’m going with the whole, ‘Neal Caffrey’ is an alias of sorts, except in this, he doesn’t know who he is other than Neal. so i mainly just use ‘he,’ which is my go-to for writing in general, but when there’s dialogue interactions with Peter, Jones, and-or Diana, or El or Moz, or there’s some sort of internal conflict going on (which there is a lot of), there’ll be ‘Neal’ to… empathise the Neal, basically. as you probably noticed above at some point.
> 
> i’m not really sure if i’ll continue this. i’d like to, at some point, but i’ve also got a probably quite busy year coming up and another big project i’m both procrastinating and brainstorming for currently. so. probably only if inspiration hits me?
> 
> feel free to comment ideas! i need them, i don’t really know, plot-wise, how the rest of this would go. how the Batfamily would get involved, how the WC team would, how Neal/Jason would start remembering, etc, etc.
> 
> also, neither Neal nor Peter have the age right. he’s younger than they both think, because in my mind i have set ages for what i think the batkids are and Dick being over thirty and Damian being over twenty feels… weird.
> 
> (edit: also feel free to hop on our WC/B discord. we're pretty active and pretty friendly! click [here](https://discord.gg/SnjTSuvtds)!)


End file.
